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Random Story Extract
Jan. 11th, 2007 10:31 amApologies to those who don't feel like reading lengthy pieces of fiction - I have no clues how to use the internet properly. Just scroll past quickly...
The first time I realised something was wrong was the day the Exploding Wharf Mixer (TM) arrived. This strangely shaped contraption was wheeled in by a nervous delivery boy, who was just about to open his mouth when Mark said
“Bet you twenty bucks it’s for me.”
Lisa looked up from her novel.
“Expecting a delivery, Mark?”
“Not at all, honey – twenty bucks says it’s for me.”
“Why, what is it?”
Mark stood up, and walked over to the desk, counting points off on his fingers.
“I don’t know who this is; I don’t know why he’s here; I’ve never seen anything like this before; I don’t have a clue what it is; nor do I have any idea what it does.”
He grinned. “Twenty bucks.”
Lisa eyed him sceptically for a moment, and slammed her book shut. “Done.”
We all turned to face the hapless delivery boy, who waited to see if our betting was over before he started talking.
“Uh… Delivery for M. Swansky?”
Mark smiled triumphantly, and Lisa resumed her seat with a sigh. The Exploding Wharf Mixer (TM) was transferred to its new owner by means of a signature, and promptly given pride of place next to the stationery cupboard. Mark waved goodbye to the delivery boy and, retrieving the Mixer’s instruction manual, used it to whack Lisa across the head.
“Oy. Loser. Where’s my money?”
She smiled, and opened her wallet.
“Twenty dollars, well earned. Hey Mark – how did you know it was for you?”
A wicked grin. “Because I don’t have a clue what it is, nor do I have any idea what it does. Obvious, really.”
A few minutes later, Lisa left to buy lunch. Mark stopped perusing the instruction manual, and looked thoughtfully at his twenty dollar note.
“Here, Sal. Have a drink on me.”
Mark wasn’t in the habit of giving away money at random.
“You don’t want to use it yourself?” I questioned. “You won it.”
“Nah. I’d probably just lose it. That, or the currency would be declared illegal just before I paid. There’s always something.” He smiled ruefully. “Much simpler if I give it to you, really.”
And, that being said, he passed me the money, and left the room.
Questions? Comments?
The first time I realised something was wrong was the day the Exploding Wharf Mixer (TM) arrived. This strangely shaped contraption was wheeled in by a nervous delivery boy, who was just about to open his mouth when Mark said
“Bet you twenty bucks it’s for me.”
Lisa looked up from her novel.
“Expecting a delivery, Mark?”
“Not at all, honey – twenty bucks says it’s for me.”
“Why, what is it?”
Mark stood up, and walked over to the desk, counting points off on his fingers.
“I don’t know who this is; I don’t know why he’s here; I’ve never seen anything like this before; I don’t have a clue what it is; nor do I have any idea what it does.”
He grinned. “Twenty bucks.”
Lisa eyed him sceptically for a moment, and slammed her book shut. “Done.”
We all turned to face the hapless delivery boy, who waited to see if our betting was over before he started talking.
“Uh… Delivery for M. Swansky?”
Mark smiled triumphantly, and Lisa resumed her seat with a sigh. The Exploding Wharf Mixer (TM) was transferred to its new owner by means of a signature, and promptly given pride of place next to the stationery cupboard. Mark waved goodbye to the delivery boy and, retrieving the Mixer’s instruction manual, used it to whack Lisa across the head.
“Oy. Loser. Where’s my money?”
She smiled, and opened her wallet.
“Twenty dollars, well earned. Hey Mark – how did you know it was for you?”
A wicked grin. “Because I don’t have a clue what it is, nor do I have any idea what it does. Obvious, really.”
A few minutes later, Lisa left to buy lunch. Mark stopped perusing the instruction manual, and looked thoughtfully at his twenty dollar note.
“Here, Sal. Have a drink on me.”
Mark wasn’t in the habit of giving away money at random.
“You don’t want to use it yourself?” I questioned. “You won it.”
“Nah. I’d probably just lose it. That, or the currency would be declared illegal just before I paid. There’s always something.” He smiled ruefully. “Much simpler if I give it to you, really.”
And, that being said, he passed me the money, and left the room.
Questions? Comments?
